Posts Tagged audience participation

Structure vs. Chaos: Momme Domme’s Ambitious but Unruly Fringe Performance

★★★★ Momme Domme is one of those Fringe experiences that doesn’t politely knock — it kicks the door in, drags you inside, and dares you to keep up. It’s chaotic, surreal, occasionally baffling, and absolutely determined to make you part of the spectacle whether you’re ready or not.

The show’s creator, Peggy Mitchell (Blemme Fatale), stalks the space in a white‑blonde wig, setting the tone as the unhinged architect of this strange universe . Around her, a rotating cast of characters orbit like planets in a system held together by sheer audacity. There’s SUB (Sam Hackney‑Ring), the man in the dog mask gleefully distributing tasks to unsuspecting audience members . CURATOR (Abby Witchalls) oversees the voting rituals with the calm menace of someone who knows exactly how much power she has in the room .

The ensemble is a Fringe microcosm of oddballs and archetypes:

  • NELLY (Rachel Jackson), the football‑mad romantic who seems one bad decision away from disaster .
  • EVE (Fern Russell), the posh blonde with lip‑sync skills sharp enough to cut glass .
  • YARA (Natalie Punter), who snatches a wig, storms out, and returns like she’s in her own personal soap‑opera arc .
  • XENA (Revathi Eswaran), the masked entrepreneur plotting her own party empire from behind a sparkly disguise .

Left: Revathi Eswaran. Right: Fern Russell

It’s a lot — intentionally. The show thrives on overstimulation, on the feeling that you’re watching a Fringe fever dream unfold in real time. But that ambition comes with rough edges. The script is dense, sometimes too clever for its own good, and could use tightening to help the audience follow the emotional through‑line. The sound system struggles under the weight of the chaos, and clarity occasionally gets sacrificed in favour of volume.

I also think the performance would have benefited from a clearer overall structure. With so many characters, tasks, and shifting dynamics happening at once, the show often felt like it was relying on chaos rather than guiding the audience through a deliberate arc. Even a loose framework built around recognisable categories — for example power‑exchange moments, sensation‑based segments, psychological or emotional beats, or audience‑driven decision phases — would have helped anchor the experience. These aren’t about making the show safer or tamer; they’re simply organisational tools that would let the audience understand what mode the performance is in at any given moment. A few defined transitions or thematic “chapters” would give the more experimental elements room to land with greater impact.

One thing that does shine is the backstage graft. Annabel Pearson, the sole stagehand, stage manager, and tech operator, is effectively holding the entire production together with grit and tape . You can feel the live‑wire energy of a show that’s still evolving — and that’s part of the Fringe charm. They’re clearly listening, adjusting, and shaping the piece night by night.

Momme Domme isn’t polished. It isn’t tidy. It isn’t trying to be. It’s a messy, loud, participatory experiment that will either delight you or leave you blinking in confusion — but you won’t forget it. If you’re up for something bold, bizarre, and proudly unrefined, step inside and let the madness wash over you.

Reviewed by Pat Harrington

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00:45:00 – Five Walk In. One Walk Out. The Audience Decides.

Five people walk into a room, and only one will make it out alive. The clock is running, the rules are brutal, and the audience isn’t allowed to sit comfortably in the dark.

This is a real‑time experiment led by a scientist who wants to know whether one person’s life can ever be worth more than another’s — and what happens when ordinary people are pushed to make that decision. It’s a story about spectators who discover they’re participants, about the moment when watching becomes acting, and about the uncomfortable truth that complicity is rarely abstract.

The playwright behind 00:45:00, Katie Gaven, understands that moral pressure isn’t a gimmick — it’s a provocation. Here, she talks about how the idea formed, why she wants audiences to feel implicated, and how the show has transformed on its journey to the Edinburgh Fringe.

When did the premise of five people entering a room and only one leaving stop being a dramatic device and start becoming a moral experiment you wanted to run on an audience?

The dramatic premise came to me pretty quickly once I knew I wanted to write a psychological thriller, and the decision to turn it into a social or moral experiment developed hand in hand with that. I’ve always loved the horror genre, especially psychological horror, and a lot of the material that inspired me was told through digital mediums — Alice in Borderland, Black Mirror, Squid Game.

That made me ask myself: if I’m going to work in this genre, why tell it through live theatre? The thing I love most about theatre is the way it connects people. So it made sense that the experiment should involve the audience directly.

The show asks whether one life can ever be “worth more” than another. Do you see that as a provocation, or as a question we all quietly answer every day without admitting it.

Honestly, I think it can be both. Weighing one life against another is not something we like to think about day to day. Putting people in that spot is tricky — you can lose the trust of an audience if you mishandle it.

But I also believe one of our best human qualities is empathy, the kind that ignites us to fight and advocate for others. That’s what I wanted to experiment with. It’s a question I’ve asked our audiences to think about, and I hope we can all try to make sense of it together.

Immersive theatre often lets audiences hide behind the novelty of participation. You seem to be doing the opposite — forcing them to confront complicity. What made you want to push them into that uncomfortable territory.

It’s a hard balance, and I’m still figuring it out. One of the main things I’m discovering through new drafts and conversations is that there’s actually positivity in acknowledging complicity. When we treat that acknowledgment as a victory — a step in the right direction — it becomes easier to inspire ourselves and others to do more.

Complicity is difficult to reckon with in everyday life. I think it’s good to be reminded of it, prodded to engage with it. It’s something I’m still unpacking within myself.

 

You explore corruption of power and the temptation to look away from injustice. Were there particular moments — political, personal, global — that made you realise this was the story you needed to tell now.

There are so many things that factored into it. The world feels full of terrifying injustices, and while media can be a tool, it can also be desensitizing. We see horrible acts of violence and political injustice every day, and I often feel horrible but also powerless — unsure how I can personally make a difference.

I consider myself privileged, and I never want that to become an excuse to disengage. I feel desperate to actively engage in these conversations and hold myself accountable. This play is an attempt at searching for that action.

The piece was first produced at UNCSA and is now leaping to the Fringe. How has the show changed as it moved from a university environment to an international stage.

OMG it has changed so. freaking. much. We did our first production at my university in a very controlled environment, got incredibly helpful feedback, and were insanely fortunate to be supported by the Thomas S. Kenan Institute for the Arts and fiscally sponsored by Producer Hub.

The play has gone through new drafts, more audience feedback, and a total transformation thanks to the financial support that allowed us to collaborate with amazing artists — our publicist Rosaline Hodgetts, lighting designer Miles Goldsmith, and many more. I can’t wait to share what we’ve been working on.

You’re a six‑time published playwright with recognition from Scholastics, The Blank Theatre, and California Young Playwrights. Does 00:45:00 feel like a continuation of your earlier work, or a rupture — a new artistic chapter.

This is definitely a new artistic chapter. Believe it or not, I’m mostly known as a comedic writer, so working on this play has been a new and vulnerable experience. I’ve never been so scared or excited for a play before. Experimenting with this genre has taught me so much, and I’m excited to see how it influences me as an actor, writer, and director.

Audience participation can be gimmicky if mishandled. How do you ensure the involvement here isn’t a trick, but a genuine ethical pressure point.

For us, it’s important to keep our end goal in mind. If we believe the audience participation is important and impactful, the audience will believe that too.

We’re specific about what success looks like for each character so we understand how participation affects their journey. Most interaction is between the audience and Dr. Wilison, so establishing her objective from the moment she welcomes the audience is crucial. Every bit of participation gets her closer to her goal, and treating those interactions as integral makes them feel genuine.

The show is supported by the Kenan Institute and fiscally sponsored by Producer Hub. Did that backing give you freedom, or sharpen your sense of responsibility.

It definitely sharpened our sense of responsibility. This has been a huge learning experience in balancing collaboration, and I’m beyond grateful for the opportunity.

There’s no way we could’ve done this without the financial support and collaboration from the Kenan Institute and Producer Hub. Getting new work onto the stage is a huge challenge, and for most young playwrights it would be impossible without this kind of help. We feel unbelievably lucky and are doing everything we can to make them proud.

Your cast comes from varied backgrounds — film, theatre, dance, visual art. How did those different artistic languages shape the tension inside the room.

It helps that we all come from the same training program, so we share the same acting vocabulary. I’m an actress first and then a writer, so connecting with the cast as a director through familiar techniques has been great.

At the same time, being multifaceted artists helps us collaborate. Each person brings unique skills. Our best days are when we embrace our different approaches and use them intentionally to build a cohesive world.

Fringe audiences are famously game for risk, but they’re also saturated with choice. What do you hope they walk out carrying — adrenaline, discomfort, clarity, or simply a question they can’t un‑ask.

Absolutely a question they can’t un‑ask. I want this to spark conversation. I don’t know the answers to the questions I’m asking — I want to learn through others.

I also hope to inspire actionable activism instead of passivity. I wrote this play because I’m still unsure how to create change, but I believe the first step is recognizing you want to get involved and engaging in conversations to figure out how.

We hope people interested in those discussions will come see us at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival — August 17–22 at thespaceUK @ Surgeon’s Hall (Stephenson Theatre) and August 24–28 at thespaceUK @ Venue 45. Join us for an experiment you won’t forget.

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